Your Map Is Not The Territory
Afflictions of the human condition
Hey Friends,
Every time I visit a new country, I make an effort to go to art galleries.
I walk around, staring at each painting, pretending I know what’s happening. But for the life of me, I rarely ever understand what’s going on. And don’t even get me started on modern art.
I appreciate the effort that’s gone into them, but often, my thoughts are: “Oh, that’s nice.”
However, there’s one that I sort of understand, or at the very least, have more thoughts than that’s nice.
It’s the painting by Rene Magritte called ‘The Human Condition’.
As you can see, the painting displays an easel placed inside a room and in front of a window.
At first glance, the painting and the outdoor scene look the same. We assume the artist has chosen to paint a faithful interpretation of the view outside the window. The colours and hues are the same, as are the cloudy weather conditions and landscape.
But when you stop to think about it, the painting and the view are not the same —They are separate. They look similar but are different.
Why am I even talking about this? Well, I think it explains how our minds work.
As someone who is fascinated by the human condition, I’m interested in how people view the world because perception always intervenes between reality and ourselves. In trying to understand other people’s perceptions, I get closer to understanding human truths.
There’s an old parable of the six blind men and an elephant that explains what I mean.
It goes like this:
A long time ago six blind men lived in a village in India. The men had heard stories about elephants from the other villagers, and they were very curious.
One day the villagers arranged for the men to visit the palace and experience an elephant for themselves. Each of the blind men approached, and then touched, the part of the animal that was closest to them.
The first man put his hand on the elephant’s side. “Oh, of course! The elephant is just like a wall!”
The second man felt the elephant’s tusk. “You are wrong. The elephant is like a spear.”
The third man touched the elephant’s trunk. “You’re both wrong. The elephant is obviously like a snake.”
The fourth man grabbed one of the elephant’s legs. “I understand perfectly! It’s clear the elephant is like a tall tree.”
The fifth man was tall and reached for the elephant’s ear. “You are all mistaken! The elephant is like a huge fan.”
The sixth man was only able to grasp the elephant’s tail. “How could you all be so wrong?!?! Anyone with any sense would see the elephant is just like a rope.”
Long after the elephant moved on, the blind men continued to argue about what an elephant was. They called each other names, accused the others of lying, and scoffed at their stupidity.
Each was convinced they were right and the others were foolish. Of course, each man was partly right, but all were wrong. Listening to each other’s perspectives would have helped them better understand the true nature of an elephant.
Both Magritte’s painting — aptly named The Human Condition — and the parable reveals something more profound about our perception of, and engagement with, the wider world. It illustrates how we often confuse how we perceive the world with the world itself. Or, as the Polish-American philosopher and engineer Alfred Korzybski once said, “The map is not the territory.”
Each of us constructs our own maps of reality. These maps are designed to represent things. It’s a snapshot of a point in time. But our maps are imperfect because they are an abstraction and simplifier of the complexity of life. The problem human nature faces is when we misunderstand the limitations of our maps — preferring to have an incorrect map to no map.
The painted easel in The Human Condition is a map. It is static. It represents something that no longer exists. If we fixate too much on the easel, we miss the view. Whereas the view is dynamic and in a perpetual state of change: The clouds are moving. Animals will pass through. Flowers will bloom and die. Seasons will come and go. And depending on where you stand, it will look different from different viewpoints.
Also, what we see on the easel may not be as the artist has depicted it. It looks correct. But who knows, there may be a Starbucks behind it. The only way we will ever know is to look out the window. Hence it’s important not to care about whether you’re right or wrong but what is true.
Don’t get me wrong, we need models, maps and paintings. They help us navigate the terrain of uncertainty across a landscape of potential outcomes. But it is important to keep in mind when thinking through life’s problems that we may have the wrong map.
In order to seek a better one, we, metaphorically speaking, need to sit down and paint a new representation of the view every day: Travel. Read. Visit art galleries. Learn new skills. Paint. Meditate. Journal. Go for a walk. Talk to people. Ask questions. But most importantly, listen.
Remember, your painting is not the view. The two are interconnected — but worlds apart.
— Jason Vu Nguyen